


Where all the saints adorned the walls

by herbatamalinowa



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Church Sex, Confessional Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Idiots in Love, M/M, My last work was inspired by Christan erotica, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rough Sex, Smut, This IS the christian erotica, Under-negotiated Kink, i mean it's not but may seem like it so just to be safe, like very very very bad but its there you get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbatamalinowa/pseuds/herbatamalinowa
Summary: "Angel" he speaks without opening his eyes. "We are doing this again next sunday".





	Where all the saints adorned the walls

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quotes from the song "Sister" by She Wants Revange. Bold of me to assume those two idiots would be able to quote anything other than Queen.

Moonlight shone through stained glass, softly gliding down the empty altar, greens and blues and reds spilling onto the marble floor.

The angels looked ethereal, celestial, devoid of human impurities and while during the day they might've looked kind, now with the pale light reflecting their faces they look stern.

Aziraphale studies them one by one, bright eyes sliding down their glass frames.

_ Archangel Gabriel,  _ he reads under one of them and frowns.

_ "You keep staring at them"  _ he hears as Crowley chuckles lowly, teeth scraping Aziraphale's neck. Their bodies are pressed together tightly, one of Crowley's hands resting on Aziraphale's nape, the other on his chest, over his heart. He's straddling his lap, hips rolling slowly back and forth. He hums a melody into Aziraphale's ear, amusment in his voice.  _ "You better lie down, the angels are watching". _

Aziraphale, although it seems impossible, pulls him closer, mouth hovering over a protruding collarbone, hand sliding under the waist of his trousers.

A moan escapes Crowley.  _ "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"  _ he asks as Aziraphale bites into his skin. Suddenly his shirt is gone and he looks down at himself, his pale chest and sharp edges that are slowly being covered by little bruises left after Aziraphale's hungry mouth.

The Angel stays silent but his eyes shine dangerously. He slaps Crowley's bottom and his hips jerk forward, knees hitting the wooden wall of the confessional. He hisses, skin burning.

_ "You ought to be more careful, dear" _ Aziraphale mutters as Crowley clings to him with his whole body. 

A finger slips in, then another. Crowley wails, then laughs.  _ "You love this you filthy bastard"  _ he moans,  _ "You love the thought of them watching usss..." _

Aziraphale buries his face into the crook of Crowley's neck, licking, kissing, biting his pulse point. His fingers circle around and brush over Crowley's prostate. The bulge in Crowley's pants press against Aziraphale's belly.  _ "You're...ah...thinking about them watching you making a mess out of me"  _ he chokes. Aziraphale's movement is getting faster, more erratic, more forceful and Crowley's shaking now, trying to get more friction yet painfully aware what may happen if he moves too much.

And then Aziraphale shows mercy. Crowley's pants disappear and he's naked on top of a fully clothed Angel whose hand close around Crowley's cock, fingers of the other hand still circling around his insides. It doesn't take long for him to spill himself on Aziraphale, all whimpers and delicious moans and the mercy turns.

He tries to pull away, overstimulated and exhausted but Aziraphale keeps him in, pulls him in tight as he pleads. He kisses him, hard, bites his lips and Crowley's convulsing, body weak, dirty noises escaping his claimed mouth. Aziraphale breaks the kiss and smiles a divine smile.  _ "Shut your mouth, the Angels are listening"  _ he hums. Crowley doesn't think he could speak even if he wanted to. Luckily it wasn't his turn.

_ "If I love it then you absolutely worship it, don't you? Being here, dominated by the force of Good, by an Angel, all in the house of God herself". _

Crowley practically lays on top of him, boneless, breathless, painful.  _ "Filthy serpent, you wanted this all along. Can you feel your sinful skin burning up just from being here? Can you feel their gaze on you back?" _ Crowley whines quietly as his cock is set free from the Angel's hold and then watches as Aziraphale unbuttons his own pants. 

_ "Angel, I beg you..."  _ he starts weakly.

_ "Shhh my dear, I'm only giving you what you deserve. See, you're half hard youself already, so good for me, so obedient..." _ he kisses the sweat off of Crowley's neck, rubbing himself over his stomach.  _ "You asked for this"  _ he whispers.  _ "Dragged me here to taste the sacred and I'm gonna deliver you to it my child, so sweet, so submissive under my touch, treated exactly how you deserve..." _

Aziraphale's fingers slipped out in a quick, sharp motion. Crowley let out a choked noise.

_ "Now careful my dear"  _ Aziraphale murmured, slipping in. _ "For there's something holy in you now". _

Crowley laughed, then sobbed as strong hands gripped his hips.

 

Aziraphale basks in Crowley's glow as they lay in his apartment. Crowley's face is relaxed, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

_ "Angel"  _ he speaks without opening his eyes.  _ "We are doing this again next sunday". _

 

**Author's Note:**

> listen cowards i've been aware that i'm going to hell for YEARS so if no one else was gonna do this then you can spark a fire under a cauldron of oil with my name on it, i'm ready babey


End file.
